


Stroke Of Fate

by captain_sassy_socks



Series: Crossword - AU [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Crossword - AU, Ellie the dog, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Janet Fraiser - Freeform, Miscarriage, Sad, Tissue Warning, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22006189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_sassy_socks/pseuds/captain_sassy_socks
Summary: Sam and Jack receive some unexpected news.Before they can reach a decision, their world is turned upside down.In their time of mourning, Jack opens up about his past, the most tragic day of his life.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Series: Crossword - AU [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540798
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Stroke Of Fate

4 Across – holiday of the week. Jack stares at the clue for the third time by now. He just can’t make sense of it. His brain is preoccupied and distracted. Nothing else registers except for one thing.

Four days ago, his life took an unexpected turn. During a post-mission, routine, medical examination, Sam was informed that she is pregnant. Doctor Fraiser ran the blood test three times to be sure.

Sam is about five weeks along.

Jack recalls the night when Sam came to his house, completely rattled and at a loss of words. She stuttered the word ‘pregnant’, passed him, and went straight to the fridge to get some fresh orange juice. It was all surreal. Honestly, it still is, somehow.

They haven’t planned it. Hell, they are together for just a little over four months. Everything is still new and exciting, getting to know each other, likes and dislikes, and exploring the depth of their apparent bond. A baby was the last thing on both their minds.

Until four days ago.

They thought they were safe. Sam was on birth control since it is mandatory for all female military off-world personnel. Therefore, they didn’t take any other precautions to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. And it had worked for her in her previous relationship. Why it was different this time, Jack doesn’t know.

They really need to talk about what to do. What options they have. How to proceed.

The pen hovers over the empty space of 4 Across. He looks at the clue again and is nowhere close to finding the answer. With a frustrated sigh, he throws the newspaper on the coffee table. The pen bounces off and rolls under the couch.

Does she want to keep the baby? How does he feel about the chance to have another child? Do they want to be parents?

Too many questions swirl through his jumbled mind. He admits to himself that he is not the youngest anymore, and Sam is a workaholic with a demanding military career. Not the best prerequisites to start a family. Not to mention the logistics involved in raising a child. He can’t imagine that one of them could be a stay-at-home parent.

A dark cloud looms in the back of his mind and threatens to consume his soul.

Can he love a child that reminds him of all he had lost?

He presses the heel of both hands against his eye sockets.

He only knows one thing for sure, he loves Samantha and doesn’t want to lose her.

A hand strokes across his shoulder and makes him jump.

“Come to bed. It’s getting late.”

He cranes his neck and regards her face. Her guarded eyes have lost their unique sparkle. The lines and wrinkles around her mouth appear deeper. Her cheeks look sunken without the usual rosy complexion. Without a doubt, a few sleepless nights have left their mark on her.

With a tired smile, he caresses the back of her hand. “In a minute.”

Her fingers glide through his hair before she disappears down the hallway.

They have to talk about it. They can’t adjourn the decision about the direction of their future indefinitely.

Jack exhales, struggles to his feet, and stretches his back. On his way to the bathroom, he says good night to Ellie, who looks wary. She has picked up on the emotional turmoil of the last four days.

He finishes his evening routine and dresses for bed. Wordless, he slips under the covers and settles behind her. His arm clasps her midriff and holds her body in a loose embrace. He nuzzles her hair and whispers, “Sweet dreams, my beautiful, amazing space hero.”

There is no reaction from Sam. He closes his eyes and wishes sleep will claim him soon. Suddenly, she turns around, huddles close and buries her face in the crook of his neck. His arms tighten around her, a token of love and understanding. While his thumb caresses her spine, he hopes she can find some rest tonight.

***

The rustle of sheets and an anguished groan wake him up in the middle of the night. He squints against the onslaught of lighting from the nightstand. His sleepy brain barely registers her retreating form.

The bathroom door slams shut.

Jack is fully awake now. Something isn’t right.

He rubs his eyes and rises. His feet send him toward her without thinking. He knocks on the closed door, concerned and anxious. “Sam?”

Except for a small moan, he doesn’t get an answer. The synapses in his brain start to fire a series of disturbing scenarios at him. With more force than necessary, he busts the barrier between them open. The sight in front of him stops him short. His heart misses a beat.

Sam is hunched over the toilet and stares wide-eyed at the bloodstains on her fingers.

All the alarm bells in his head go off and spur him into action. He crouches down and grips her upper arms. His voice shakes, “Sam? What’s wrong?”

“I…,” she struggles for words and fails, still mesmerized by the red spots on her skin.

“Oh, god! Let’s get you to the hospital!”

The next minutes or hours, Jack has lost all sense of time, pass like a blur. Somehow, he picks up random pieces of clothes and manages to get them both dressed in a hurry. He scrambles to the front door, careful not to exercise any inadvertent pressure on her. At his truck, he fumbles with the keys and helps her clumsily into the passenger seat. His panicked brain doesn’t differentiate the color of the traffic lights. Green or red doesn’t matter. He has to get Sam to the hospital as fast as humanly possible. He speeds through the almost empty streets of the early hours as if his life depended on it.

At the hospital, he rushes into the ER and yells, “Help! Please help! My girlfriend is bleeding!”

Lethargic, Sam trails behind him.

A sympathetic nurse meets her and guides her to an examination room. Jack wants to follow but is stopped in his pursuit. He is relegated to the waiting room area with the promise of being updated on Sam’s condition.

Time comes to a screeching halt when he collapses into one of the plastic chairs. The adrenaline leaves his body. In its wake, only exhaustion, agony and anxiety remain.

To distract himself, Jack reaches for a trashy magazine and leafs through the pages. Nothing registers. The pictures and words do not pierce through the haze in his mind. He drops the useless object with an irritated grunt.

He leans forward on his elbows and stares down at his feet. Minutes pass by before he realizes that he only wears one sock. A manic laugh escapes. It echoes in the sparsely filled room and bounces off the bare walls.

Another waiting patron side-eyes him.

He gets up and walks over to the vending machine. Searching for coins, he pats his pants. In his rushed departure, he forgot to take any money with him. He curses under his breath.

The hands of the clock on the wall mock him with their agonizingly slow progress. He can feel the tick-tock crawling up under his skin. Jack grinds his teeth and oppresses the niggling feeling that his worst nightmare will repeat itself.

He can’t go through the experience one more time. It has already destroyed a part of his spirit.

He kicks the vending machine out of frustration and anger.

“Mr. O’Neill.” The sound of someone calling his name yanks his head around.

Next to a nurse, he spots Sam. With drooping shoulders and bloodshot eyes, she looks so small and broken. No trace of the fierce and daunting soldier or the incredible and amazing woman that he loves so much is visible.

His heart shatters at the gut-wrenching sight. Taking a few steps into her direction, he meets her halfway. She flings herself into his arms, clings to his frame, and cries heartbreakingly.

She doesn’t have to say anything since her agony confirms Jack’s fears. His worst nightmare has just come to life again.

Tears stream down his face while he tries to find the strength to comfort her.

***

The ride home is quiet, each lost in their own sorrow. Unnoticed by them inside the truck, the rising sun signals the arrival of a new day. The beams struggle to break through the gray sky.

When they arrive at his house, a weeping and unresponsive Sam moves straight to the bedroom. She doesn’t acknowledge Ellie’s fretful presence. Jack’s eyes follow her path until she disappears from his sight.

Unsure what to do, he sits down at the coffee table and buries his head in his hands. Images from his past flash through his mind. A telephone call, divorce papers, raindrops against the windshield. Everything mashes together and whirls around.

Jack pounds the tabletop with his balled fists. Anger, dread, and an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness seize him.

Ellie gets startled by the sudden outburst and retreats to her safe space in the kitchen.

Jack jumps up and strides over to the telephone. He dials the familiar number. On the third ring, a drowsy woman picks up.

“Janet, please come over,” his pain-filled voice cracks. “We… we lost the baby.”

***

About 25 minutes later, Janet arrives at his front door. Unsettled eyes seek his. Her shaky fingers clamp down on his forearm, tight like a vise grip.

“Oh, god, Jack! Where is Sam?”

“Down the hallway. Last door on the left.” Jack’s head tilts into the general direction.

Janet regards his miserable state for another moment and squeezes him gently. She dashes down the hallway, opens the door without announcement or hesitation, and disappears into the bedroom.

Jack stares after her. He hopes he did the right thing by calling Janet. He’ll give them all the space and time they need.

Ellie approaches him with caution and a fearful look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, girl.” Jack falls to his knees and spreads his arms. His dog leaps over and accepts his apology. He strokes her fur and cuddles her. Her tongue tickles the skin of his hands and face. For a short moment, the world doesn’t look so bleak or depressing.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He gets up, takes the leash and his keys. At the wardrobe, he reaches for his jacket only to recognize that he never removed it. He takes a deep breath and remembers Janet’s advice from several weeks ago. Breathe in four seconds, hold your breath for three seconds, breathe out four seconds.

The ghost of ‘what could have been’ materializes in his head.

Forceful, he opens the door and steps outside, followed closely by Ellie.

The sun has lost its struggle against the blanket of low clouds. Slight drizzle greets him and dampens his clothes. Jack throws his hood over and shuffles onto the sidewalk, hands buried deep in his pockets. Ellie speeds ahead and snoops around.

The empty streets start to fill with life. Hounded people on their way to work overtake him. Jack doesn’t notice them. His thoughts are stuck on the events of the night. Sam’s tear-stained face flares up, followed by the image of her unseeing eyes. Red spots on beige tiles pop up.

Jack’s movements come to an abrupt halt. Oh shit, the blood is still there. He needs to clean the bathroom when he comes home. The visible evidence of their loss must be erased.

A woman pushes a stroller along.

An unbidden name pops up.

Charlie.

A boy, precious and loved. Taken from this world before he even had a chance to explore it. About six and a half years have passed since the fateful day. However, at this precise moment, it feels like yesterday to Jack. The telephone call that shook his core replays itself on a loop in his mind, ‘Your wife Sarah has been taken to the hospital’.

His own tears mingle with the raindrops that splash against his face. On a cold Saturday morning, Jack stands in the middle of the sidewalk and drowns in the memory that has haunted his waking hours for a long time.

Ellie’s pitiful howls bring him out of his paralysis. His dog looks rain-drenched and unhappy.

Another image flares up; a bridge spans over a torrential river. Thunder, blurred vision, lost hope, salvation.

Jack shakes his head in an attempt to get rid of all these depressing flashbacks. He needs to focus on the here and now, and on Samantha.

“Let’s go home.” Ellie doesn’t object.

***

Once back in the sanctuary of their home, he gets rid of his drenched jacket and shoes. His pants cling to his legs and make him shiver.

With a stern voice, he warns Ellie, “Don’t!” She seems to be tempted to ignore his command but obeys reluctantly. Together they walk to the bathroom.

When the door opens, Ellie darts ahead and jumps into the shower stall to shake off the water. A handful of drops land on the dried blood stains covering the tiles. New life gets breathed into them. Jack is hypnotized and equally disturbed by the display. A queasy feeling accumulates in the pit of his stomach.

He drags his gaze away, grabs a towel, and dries his dog off.

“I’ll be with you in a minute. And then I’ll make us some nice breakfast.” He scratches behind her ears. “Hmm? Don’t you agree?” Ellie licks his face with two broad sweeps of her tongue and scurries off.

Jack takes the damp towel and scrubs the stained tiles and toilet seat. His movements become more and more frantic until the redness fades into nothingness. Carelessly, he throws the tarnished cloth next to the hamper. He will dispose of it later. He undresses and leaves his wet clothes on the floor before he enters the shower and turns the faucet on. Jack closes his eyes and lets the sensation wash over him as the jet of hot water chars his skin. The stinging pain numbs his mind. He bears the torture until his whole body glows in an angry color.

He towels himself off and rifles through the hamper. After a while, he finds a worn flannel shirt and a pair of coffee-stained sweatpants. They have to suffice.

When he steps into the hallway, his gaze lands on the still closed bedroom door. He listens for any telltale noise that gives him a clue of the mood inside the other room.

Silence.

Briefly, Jack hesitates before he moves toward the kitchen. After filling up Ellie’s feeding dish, he busies himself with the preparation of coffee. They might need it. He has just placed the filter inside the coffee machine when the sound of a door opening stops him in his tracks.

A few seconds later, the petite doctor rounds the corner. Her eyes are reddened and puffy, devastation and empathy mark her features. Dejected, she approaches him.

“How is she?” He sounds exhausted.

“Shocked. Sad. Confused,” Janet replies. “But Sam is not in denial. At least, it’s a point to start from.”

Jack just nods and watches the rise of the brown liquid in the coffeepot. Drop by drop, a steady rhythm.

“Jack." The sound of his name startles him. Janet’s hand rubs along his upper arm. A simple gesture of compassion and sympathy. “What I’m about to tell you is classified, but you need to know.”

He wonders what kind of low blow comes next. He is not sure he can bear any more bad news. Despite his fragile emotional state, his face remains passive.

“A few years ago, Sam was possessed by an alien life form. It died inside of her and left a… protein in her bloodstream. Sam suspects it is responsible for her miscarriage. She will blame herself.”

Jack is confused. “Is this protein responsible…?” He trails off, afraid to admit the possibility.

“I’m not sure. I have to run some tests,” Janet admits with uncertainty etched into her features. “Until now, it didn’t affect Sam’s health.”

This reassuring tidbit of information doesn’t ease his mind.

“Please keep in mind that it can be difficult to know exactly why a miscarriage happened. It’s almost never caused by something the pregnant woman did.”

The rational part of him knows these facts. And still, doubts cast their shadows over him. Maybe, they could have prevented the loss.

“There’s more.” Jack shuts his eyes at Janet’s faltering words. “The alien left memories from its life behind. Most of them are traumatizing, distressing, or unpleasant at best.” Her fingers dig into his skin. “I am afraid they will resurface and hurt Sam even more.” Her voice trembles as her eyes fill with tears.

Jack envelops her fragile body in a soothing embrace. Emotions clog his throat.

“You have to be strong for her, Jack. For both of you.” The desperate plea tugs at his heart.

He has no idea where to find the strength. He only knows that Samantha needs his support in her time of mourning. His space hero might save Earth from intergalactic threats every other week, but right now, it’s up to him to pick up the pieces of her shattered soul.

“I’ll try,” he rasps.

“Okay.” Janet wipes away the wet streaks on her face and offers a sorrowful nod. “I’ll head to the base and run some tests. Call me if you need me.” With her parting statement, she disappears and leaves Jack standing all alone in his kitchen.

He takes a deep breath and massages his temples. As painful as it might get, it has become clear what he has to do next.

He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and calls for Ellie. The dog follows his command and appears at his side. With determination in his strides, he approaches the bedroom door. He opens it to announce his presence. A wave of pensiveness and melancholy hits him at the display in front of him.

Sam lies on the bed with her back to him, hunched into the fetal position. Used paper tissues litter the nightstand while her jacket has been dumped on the floor. The curtains have been drawn back, allowing the weak morning light to filter in.

Sam doesn’t move a fiber of her body, neither acknowledging nor accepting him in any way.

Jack looks down at his dog, who dutifully waits at the threshold. He tilts his head toward the bed and strokes the fur behind her ears. Ellie understands his intention. She pads toward Sam and sits down beside the bed, her muzzle placed on the covers. Puppy dog eyes and a waggling tail call for Sam’s attention.

For a minute, nothing happens before a heavy hand reaches out to fondle Ellie.

Jack releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding. Samantha is responsive. A weight has been lifted from his chest.

He enters the room and sits down next to his girlfriend. One hand reaches out and draws soothing circles on her thigh. The other one holds onto the water bottle, a lifeline for his own sake. He gauges her emotional state.

Sam’s puffy and tired eyes stay focused on Ellie.

Several minutes pass by in tense silence.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault,” Sam whispers, barely audible.

Jack's hand comes to a halt. “It’s not your fault. It happens to more women than one would assume.”

“It’s different with me.”

“I know.” With a simple statement, he shows compassion for her.

Sam fixes him with a piercing stare. A flicker of her fiery temperament crosses her face. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. Janet told me.” The truth in his words reverberates in the space between them. Sam averts her gaze. “Still, it’s not your fault. It just happens. Never mind, what you did or didn’t.” His hand resumes its journey.

“So, you’re a medical expert now or what?” she scoffs.

Her icy words can’t hurt him as they are expected. He is familiar with the stages of grief. If she wants to direct her anger at him, he is more than willing to accept.

“I’ve lived through this once. I know what it’s like to lose an unborn child,” his voice quivers at the end.

Sam’s head whirls around. With a pained, bewildered expression, she stares at him. Her cold, trembling fingers seek his out and entwine. He gives them an assuring squeeze.

Leaning over Ellie, he deposits the water bottle on the nightstand. He clasps her hand with both of his and launches into the memory of his tragic past. “Sara and I had always wanted to have children. For years, we tried to conceive a child. We consulted doctors and specialists, underwent hormone therapy, followed their advice, but nothing seemed to help. And then one day, when we nearly lost all hope, she got pregnant.”

A wistful smile holds onto Jack’s face.

“We were all excited. It was the happiest day of our lives.”

A lone tear slides down his cheek.

“The first trimester went smoothly without much morning sickness or other common pregnancy symptoms,” Jack pauses and contemplates how to phrase his next words.

“We started to plan the nursery. Wall colors, furniture, toys, the whole nine yards. My workshop looked like a hurricane went through.” At this particular memory, a heartfelt laugh escapes him.

Sam’s lips curl up in understanding.

Ellie’s regards them suspiciously and decides to leave the room.

“After a routine appointment, Sara called me that we expected a boy. They had done an ultrasound, and our little guy lay in the right position. Immediately, we discussed names and settled on Charlie. After her grandfather Charles,” his voice falters at the mention of the sacred name.

“One day, I was in the middle of carving the name into the plate on the crib, I received a telephone call. Sara was shopping for baby clothes with her friends when she felt a sharp pain. She was rushed to the hospital. When I arrived…,” Jack trails off. His voice refuses to work. The memories from back then become indistinct with today’s events.

With a pained expression, Sam shoots up and embraces him in a tight hug.

“We lost the boy. 18 weeks along, we lost him,” Jack sobs uncontrollably in Sam’s arms. They cling to each other, trying to find solace and strength in their physical connection.

“One moment, I envisaged his first baby steps, his first word, everything. The next, the future was ripped from me.” Jack buries his face in the crook of her neck and releases his pent-up emotions and repressed heartache.

Sam rocks him in an attempt to console him. Her fingers skim over each square inch of his body that is within her reach. Her own eyes are brimming with tears.

The unique fragrance of Samantha fills his nostrils, feminine and exhilarant like a morning walk in the woods mixed with a hint of lily. The familiarity chases away the dark clouds inside his tormented soul.

As the stream of tears subsides, he leans back and takes her in. Tear-stained, pale and exhausted, she has never looked more vulnerable. He cradles her face in one hand and drops an affectionate kiss on her dry lips. Their foreheads touch. They stay like this for a while, giving and taking comfort in their intimate embrace. Words are unnecessary.

When he feels calm enough to continue, Jack snuffles and says, “I was shocked, angry, overwhelmed. I didn’t understand how it could have happened. We made it so far, followed the doctor’s advice, and were careful. Healthy food, no alcohol. There must have been some signs I had missed.”

He studies Sam’s face and promises himself not to repeat his past mistakes. He loves her too much to leave her alone with her grief.

“I didn’t get any satisfactory answers. The doctor and nurses told me that it can happen just like that, for no apparent reason at all. I couldn’t accept it.” Jack lowers his gaze. “I directed my anger and sorrow at Sara. I blamed her for our son’s death. She must have done something wrong. Too much stress, carried too many shopping bags, whatever. She became my personal scapegoat,” he confesses. Guilt resonates in the way he stresses the last word.

“Jack, you were mourning your son’s death,” Sam sympathizes.

He raises his head. “Yes, I was. But I forgot that Sara was mourning, too. That she needed me. A shoulder to cry on. Arms to comfort her. Words to lessen the pain. I denied her the chance to heal by shutting her out.”

His eyes flicker over her face. “Samantha, please believe, I won’t make the same mistakes again. I have learned from them. I’ll be there for you. You can cry on my shoulder or use me as a punching bag. You can yell at me or seek comfort in my arms. Whatever you need, sweetheart, whatever helps.” The words rush from his mouth as the tears start to fall again.

Sam wipes them away with her thumbs and leans closer. So close that he can taste her breath. “I do. Without you, I won’t survive today. Or Tomorrow.” She bridges the gap and captures his lips in a tender kiss. “I know you won’t hurt me. That’s not you, Jack,” she mumbles against his skin.

“I promise.” He pecks her forehead and reclines. “I never told you how I got Ellie.”

Sam furrows her brows at the sudden change in topic and cants her head.

“She is tied into this. When Sara had enough of me and my attitude, she served me the divorce papers. It was a slap in my face. I hadn’t seen it coming. Until that moment, I thought I had held it together, somehow. After I signed the papers, I searched for a pub on the outskirts. Somewhere, where nobody knew me, and I could drown my sorrows in a bottle of hard liquor.”

The taste of whiskey resurfaces on his tongue, caramel with notes oak and orange. Bile rises at the back of his throat. He grimaces and shudders in disgust.

Sam rubs up and down his upper arms. “You don’t have to continue if it makes you uncomfortable.” Concerned eyes dart across his face.

“No, it’s okay,” he assures her. “It’s just that the taste of whiskey will forever make me gag.”

“Damn, now I have to scratch it off my Christmas shopping list,” Sam states in feigned annoyance.

Jack chuckles at her attempt to lighten the mood. He appreciates the effort.

He entwines their fingers and proceeds, “I remember it was a shitty day. Rain, thunderstorm, strong wind. The streets were partly flooded. I was plastered. How I was able to drive in that state is still a mystery to me. On my way back home, I crossed a bridge. I stopped my car and stepped into the downpour. I staggered to the guardrail and stared into the torrent beneath. It was calling me with the promise of seeing Charlie.”

“Oh, god, Jack!” Sam crushes his finger in her iron grip.

Jack doesn’t notice the pain, he stares into space. “Just as I had decided to climb over, I heard a wail. Behind me, there was a puppy, looking like a picture of misery. Totally drenched, emaciated and with a limp in her left hind leg. I tried to shoo her away but failed. She was so desperate for human affection and probably hungry as hell. I don’t know what made me do it, but I picked her up, loaded her into my car, and brought her home.”

Sam’s gentle hand turns his face until their eyes meet. Gratitude and love are reflected in them. There are no more tears left to cry for today.

“Ellie saved my life. She gave me a reason to carry on and look ahead. I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

“Me, too,” Sam agrees. “Without her, I would have never met you. And fallen so completely and utterly in love.” A hopeful smile returns. It’s a beautiful contrast to her puffy eyes and damp cheeks.

“We’ll survive this, Sam. We’re gonna be okay. Believe me.” Jack has faith in their capacity to heal, in a shared future, in love.

Sam nods and snuggles against his chest. Her hand rest over his heart, which beats powerful and steady, an affirmation of life. His arms enfold her body. Pensive, he rests his chin on top of her head.

A glimmer of hope appears on the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> That got pretty sad after all the fluff in the previous story. It was necessary for the overall story arc in this universe.
> 
> In the next installment, we gain insight into Sam's mind and how she deals with everything that happened, past and future.


End file.
